


Second Chances

by CmonCmon



Series: Raising Warriors [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 99 is the Best Vod, Clone Mom and Clone Dad, F/M, Mouse Droids - Freeform, Soft Wars, Star Wars AU - Soft Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25772560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CmonCmon/pseuds/CmonCmon
Summary: 99 is the best judge of ARC potential on Kamino, but Colt is pretty sure 99 had other ideas for this vod'ika.
Relationships: Colt (Star Wars)/Shaak Ti
Series: Raising Warriors [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835518
Comments: 24
Kudos: 319
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/gifts), [Primarybufferpanel (ArwenLune)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/gifts).



> All the usual thank yous to [PrimaryBufferPanel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune) and Jac (with a secret AO3) for helping to work this one into shape.
> 
> If you still haven't read Projie's [Soft Wars](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683775), I don't know what to tell you other than you really ought to!
> 
> It was mentioned a while back we needed more 99, so enjoy some 99!

ARC training wasn’t one of Colt’s official responsibilities, but it was one of his favorites. Being asked to help Alpha 17 was an honor, even if 17 insisted he only asked so Colt didn’t blame him when the freshly redesignated di’kuts ran headlong into trouble. 

Some units sent their men back to Kamino for training once they proved themselves in the field. Colt, along with Blitz and Havoc, had been part of the first class of ARCs. Picking out cadets to continue on to ARC training had become a pet project for Rancor.

Most of the time, one of the men gave Colt a nudge in the hallway and passed along a designation. 

Sometimes, the Rancor troops picked the candidates out themselves, but more often than not, it was second-hand passed along from the best judge of vode no one ever noticed. 

“Secret meeting, huh?” Colt propped a shoulder against the wall next to 99 in one of the maintenance hallways. “Planning something big this time?”

“You know me, Colt,” 99 smiled up at him. “Always thinking.”

99 was, and Colt wished he had enough swing to get the vod something better than resetting equipment and commanding mousedroids. Not because there was anything wrong with that work, but because 99 had a mind for the battlefield and the GAR was lesser for having him languish. 

“I didn’t thank you for stepping in with Vau.”

That had been months ago, but Colt was still waiting for the trainer to drag it back up again. “You don’t have to.”

“And I wasn’t going to,” 99 continued. “You’re smarter than that, and too many people depend on you to make the right calls around here.” He shook his head. “Don’t you dare screw that up so you can feel good about telling some or'dinii he’s full of it.”

99 was right, and it made Colt feel like a second cycle cadet to need to be told off. “The General agreed with me.”

“The General is a good one,” 99 granted him. “But the General isn’t vode.”

She wasn’t. She never claimed to be. But Colt  _ still _ wanted to argue. Shaak cared about his brothers, cared about doing the right thing for them. He wanted to defend her to 99 even if there was nothing to counter with. Shaak was a Jedi, and doing what she had been sent to do. 

Colt watched a row of mouse droids roll out from one of the hatches. “I know you didn’t call me down here to not-thank me.”

99 shot him one quelling glance before nodding to the mouse droids. “They’d been acting up lately.”

The row of five did a test pattern before halting neatly against the wall. This was very much not in Colt’s job description, but he knew to be patient. “They seem fine to me.”

“That’s because I fixed them. You wouldn’t believe how basic their programming was before.” A cadet squirmed out from the hatch after them. Once he got to his feet, he considered for far too long before saluting. “Err.. sir.”

“Commander Colt, this is Tech.” 99 could not keep his amusement out of his tone.

If 99 thought the kid was ARC material, Colt was going to suggest the old vod got his eyes checked. Tech was slight, pale, and baby-faced. In addition, he needed correcting lenses for his vision. “Nice to meet you, Tech. At ease. You worked on the mouse droids?”

“Yes sir. They are a fun little project. Only seventeen core functions under the casement, but they can do all sorts of things once you start poking around in there.” The vod’ika talked too fast, seemed uncomfortable in his own skin. “Though 99 was telling me there’s a MSE-6 in development. Which would make sense to sell more, but it wouldn’t take much to max out the capacity of the MSE-4s. Did you know, of the 17 core systems, only three of them come optimized?”

“I did not.” Colt didn’t know anything about mouse droid core systems, or what optimizing them would gain. “But thanks to you, I do now.”

Tech flashed him a pleased grin. “If you think that’s interesting, you must not have heard about the time I sliced the sim-system to make it through my squad’s close quarters assault training sims…” He was about to go on before 99 cut him short.

“Thank you for the upgrades, Tech, but I don’t want you to be late to your next class.” 99 rested a hand on the cadet’s slim shoulder.

All the excitement rushed out of Tech’s face. “Like I need to go to marksmanship when I’m never getting off this watery rock anyway. They’ll never let me be a real soldier.” Wide, apologetic eyes turned to 99. “Sorry 99, I don’t mean that it like that, just that with--”

“I have my weapons quals.” 99 patted his shoulder and gave Tech a little shove. “So, go earn yours.”

Tech went to give 99 a playful kark-you salute before correcting himself and properly saluting Colt.

The two waited in silence until the cadet was out the maintenance door. 99 was one clever vod.

“He’d be a big help to you.” Colt knew what 99 wanted, but he was going for the soft sell.

99 frowned, so obviously disappointed in Colt. “He’d be wasted here.” 

“He’d be safer here.”

That earned Colt a punch in the arm. “Think of what he could do in the field! The vode he could save blocking signals, or accessing the Seps systems. That vod’ika is barely under consideration for Maintenance. He’d be up for decommissioning if they could.”

That was worse that Colt had expected. Sure, the vod’ika was different, but that was serious. “It’s that bad?”

99 was silent, watching at the last out of mouse droids filed back out through their hatch. 

Colt wanted to promise that wouldn’t happen, but it wasn’t something he could promise. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“He’s not the only one, Colt.” 

Colt knew that was true. His General had made a lot of headway to stop the practice of decommissioning cadets. That was major progress. Those cadets who had previously been at risk of decommissioning were now being moved to support roles, despite the Longnecks’ grumbling about benchmarks. Every vod knew it was still thin ice after that, but no one was as interested in decommissioning as the Kaminii.

It was Colt’s nature to accept good-enough until an opportunity for better presented itself.

99 seemed to know that about him, too. Colt scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Let me work on it.”

“Oya, Commander.”

*

Colt didn’t think of much else for days. He asked around as discreetly as he could, even though he knew 99 had good info. Too much interest in a particular cadet raised eyebrows, and the Longnecks always seemed to know.

The information was all the same. Tech was smart, but barely making quals in most areas. He had his talents, but he was different, and different was never good. Every trainer pointed out Tech wanted to be out fighting. 

If Tech had been a CT cadet in Colt’s day, Tech might have already been decommissioned. As a CC cadet, it had been a far less common practice, but the CTs talked. 

They needed a plan for his future. Colt needed something Shaak could use as leverage against the suggestion that the Maintenance squad was all Tech would ever be useful for. 

He weighed the risk of tipping his hand, and took a seat next to Alpha-17 in the mess.

Nothing was ever private, but it wasn’t too suspicious for them to have something to chat about. “Remember that sergeant in ARC training? Hunter?” 

“He was a weird one,” 17 said as proof that he did remember. “Know he became a commando. You come to tell me he get himself blown up walking through a minefield?”

“Not as far as I know.” Colt didn’t understand what the sergeant claimed he could do. Something about being able to feel electrical signals that made him more accurate than scouting reports, but that was all well outside of Colt’s understanding. 

What Colt  _ did _ know was that Hunter had been as good, if not better, than most of the candidates. Hunter had been different, and he’d been noticed for it in a good way. “You ever hear where he ended up assigned?”

That’s when 17 knows there’s something driving this inquiry. Colt can see his interest perk up. “Can’t say I do, but you don’t have to get a commando. Know a lot of ARCs happy to stab something if you’ve got something in mind.” The Alpha said it as his eyes slowly moved over a table of Cuy’val Dar eating their own meal.

Colt would be happy to do that job himself if he didn’t think what happened afterwards would be worse for everyone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

*

Colt knocked on the door to his General’s office, datapad in hand, helmet clipped to his belt. If her day was on schedule, she should be free after finishing a pair of meetings. “A word, sir?”

“Come in, Colt,” she called from inside. He wondered how she could know it was him at the door. To a nat-born, the vode sounded near-identical. Colt had never had a good moment to ask. 

“I’ll be with you in a moment.” The General was still at the holotable, two other figures still visible. Shaak was lit in the pale blue of the table, and the weak grey light of another stormy day.

It was a luxury to watch his General. Colt would feel guilty about it, but even he could admit there was no harm in it. Plenty of his brothers had crushes on theirs, and he would never let himself go that far. He could appreciate her, admire her, without compromising his ability to do his job.

Someone on the call must have said something clever. The General curled her shoulders close and  _ stars _ , she giggled. Colt had never earned a giggle from her.

He had only just recovered when she ended the call and turned her full attention on him. “Is everything well, Colt?”

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, sir.” He couldn’t have known. Her schedule had that call finished a half-hour ago.

“You didn’t.” She waved him towards the pair of seats looking out of the window of her office. “Please take a seat. Luminara and I were catching up. Your brother Gree sends his best.”

Hearing that made Colt wonder exactly what Gree, that karking osik-stirrer, was telling his General about Colt. But, that was not why he had come to his General’s office. “Actually, sir.”

Shaak had moved to take one of the seats by the window, but stopped when he spoke. “Ah. Commander, please.” She walked back to her desk and took her chair.

There was something natural in the way she could shift back and forth, her easy, warm friendship with  _ Colt _ , and her attentive, professional concern for the  _ Commander _ .

Colt wished he was half as good at it. She was his General in his mind and manner unless she expressly suggested otherwise. Even though he knew she’d be more comfortable if he kept her as Shaak first and General second.

“I’d like to speak to you about one of the cadets, sir,” Colt began, taking the seat opposite hers when she gestured to it. She was most likely tired of him standing on protocol, but he couldn’t disregard it on his own observation.

One delicate incline of her head.

“He’s taken on the name Tech, and he is a bit… nonstandard.” Practically everything about the cadet was nonstandard. “But it looks like a beneficial trait, from what I hear.” 

“You hear?” If she had brows, one would be quirked.

“I have only met the cadet once myself.” Colt held out a ‘pad. “But I collected feedback for you to review. Given the nature of the cadet’s position, I was discreet, but despite his standing, he really is gifted, and he’s not the only one with advantageous non-standard attributes.”

Colt waited for her to flip through the ‘pad. “Three cadets?”

“To start with.” 

“To start what with?” There was something almost hopeful in her tone.

“There’s a sergeant. A commando. He’s got all the quals, but he’s nonstandard is his own way.” Colt fought back an answering smile. “I don’t know him all that well, but I think he could lead a specialty squad if someone gave him half a chance.”

“Tell me more, Colt.” Shaak set the datapad on her desk and leaned closer across the desk, that predator’s glint in her eyes.

_ Oya, General. _


End file.
